The Tie that Binds
by alynwa
Summary: Written for the Short Affairs Challenge on LJ; the prompt word is Rubble and the prompt color is Crimson.


Illya watched in satisfaction as the building imploded and crumbled to the ground. This particular THRUSH lab was located in a populated area the Russian had to take great care to place his explosives so that it collapsed inward on its footprint instead of sending debris and shrapnel blasting into the surrounding area. It wasn't as much fun to watch, but it was equally effective.

After awhile, the dust settled somewhat and the Russian could see the rubble better. In some places, it glowed crimson from small fires that still burned in various places under large slabs of cement. His communicator began to trill and he pulled the device from his inner pocket and assembled it automatically as his eyes continued to scan his work. "Kuryakin."

"Yes, Mr. Kuryakin. Is Mr. Solo with you?"

"No, Mr. Waverly. I was not expecting him."

"I know. Apparently, that lab had some kind of dampening device that jammed our communicator signals while you were inside so we could not reach you to let you know that Mr. Solo had been sent in to retrieve some documents we didn't know about until one of the captives broke under interrogation."

A knot of fear began to form in the pit of Illya's stomach. "The lab is destroyed! You are saying that Napoleon could be inside?"

"We've not been able to raise him since he informed me that he had the papers. That was approximately fifteen minutes ago."

The Russian's stomach lurched and he had to squat down and lower his head. "Sir, please send a Clean – up Crew to help me search for him!"

"On its way," Mr. Waverly replied. He did not take it personally when his microphone clicked to indicate the Russian had ended the call. "Good luck, Mr. Kuryakin," he whispered.

For a moment, Illya just stared at the remains of the building feeling panicked and overwhelmed. He knew the crew would be there in less than twenty minutes. _If they just start digging blindly, they might never reach him in time!_ He stood up and concentrated on clearing his mind.

He closed his eyes and began to "speak" to Napoleon. _Tovarisch,_ he thought, _you have always said our connection is strong. I am a scientist, I believe in what can be explained; but sometimes, things happen that cannot be explained, at least not by science. I am a scientist, but I am also part Rom and I have the Second Sight of Rom royalty. Hear me, Napoleon, hear and answer. Please, moy brot, I will not be able to live with myself if I have caused your death. You cannot leave this earth in this manner. Please answer. Napoleon, please. Answer me._

He moved slowly along the perimeter of the former building, all the while thinking about his partner and beseeching him to answer. He took another step and stopped. A feeling came over him that he would have been hard pressed to describe; it was a combination of warmth, a sense of presence and a feeling of triumph. For the briefest second, he swore he could smell his partner's aftershave. _I feel you, Napoleon! Hang on, help is coming!_

Two minutes later, the crew arrived and Illya told them where to direct their efforts. They used machinery they had brought to remove heavy beams and chunks of cement. After fifteen minutes of digging, a large piece of wall was removed that revealed a void in which laid the unconscious form of the CEA. Working quickly, Illya stabilized his neck and back while an ambulance was summoned from HQ. When it arrived, the medics gently lifted the man onto a gurney and put him in it. When Illya started climbing in, he checked any comments with a death stare that left no doubt that he would be riding with his partner. He gently searched Napoleon's clothing and located the documents he had been sent to retrieve.

Hours later, papers safely in Mr. Waverly's hands, Illya sat next to his partner's bed in Medical waiting for the man to awaken. He was concussed, but basically unharmed except for scrapes and bruises. _The Solo Luck strikes again!_ He reached over and stroked his partner's arm and the man stirred and opened his eyes. "How are you feeling?"

"I've been better," Napoleon croaked. He pointed at the pitcher of water bedside and gratefully swallowed some when Illya held the cup to his lips. "The weirdest thing happened."

"What?"

"I was heading out when I heard a sound and knew the building was collapsing. Somehow, I ended up in an air pocket. While I was lying there, I felt myself losing consciousness, but right before I did, I heard you. I _heard_ you calling me. And then, I felt you. I felt you and I knew you knew where I was and you would find me. And I wasn't afraid."

Illya slid his hand down Napoleon's arm to grasp his hand. "I cannot explain it, but I used my Second Sight to find you. I knew where you were and was able to direct the crew where to dig to find you."

"Let's just chalk it up to a combination of my luck and our bond," Napoleon said as he squeezed the Russian's hand before letting it go. "I'm tired."

"Get some sleep. I will stay here until you sleep and then I will leave to write my report. I will leave instructions for me to be called when you wake."

"Good. Thanks, Partner Mine." Illya thought Napoleon was about to say something else, but sleep claimed him.

He sat a few minutes longer and when the CEA didn't wake, he stood. _Sleep well, moy droog,_ he thought before turning and heading to his office.


End file.
